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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26279314">People Are Dying, Derek!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nana_banana/pseuds/nana_banana'>nana_banana</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adult Stiles Stilinski, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Canon Universe, Comedy, Getting Together, Jealous Stiles Stilinski, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Mentioned Ritual Sacrifice, Partners in Crime, Pick-Up Lines, Romantic Comedy, Werewolves, sterek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:40:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,762</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26279314</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nana_banana/pseuds/nana_banana</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shit is going down in Beacon Hills, as usual. Our favorite dynamic duo is on the job, but Stiles thinks Derek should be more focused.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>240</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>People Are Dying, Derek!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Here's some silliness I had lying around.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Did you <em>have</em> to ask her out?”  Stiles complained as they hopped back into the Jeep.  He slammed the door closed after himself, too annoyed to be gentle.  “Like, did it escape your notice that we're on a <em>mission?”</em>  He turned to Derek as he slid into the passenger seat, but Derek did not even look at him.  His hand, the one stained with the deputy's number, was roughly rubbing against his thigh as he settled and pulled his own door closed, much more gently than Stiles.  He continued rubbing it, back and forth across the jean in an absent manner.  “People are being <em>ritually sacrificed,</em> Derek.  <em>Again!”</em></p>
<p>

“I didn't ask her out,” Derek denied, rolling his eyes.</p><p>

“Right.”  Stiles barked out a laugh that sounded completely unnatural even to Stiles' human ears.  “That phone number on your palm just appeared on its own like some sort of magical soulmate connection.”  He would argue until he was blue in the face that he was <em>not</em> being bitter.  He turned back to stick the key into the starter and turned it viciously.  The Jeep failed to start.  His stomach churned, irritation licking at his insides as he tried to breathe normally.  He would not be getting anywhere if he did not calm down.  His Jeep was capricious and sensitive, and he had to treat it with care.</p><p>

Taking a deep breath, he counted backwards from ten.</p><p>

But the discontent bubbled in his gut, frothing and continuous like a low-simmering rage.</p><p>

Stiles did not know why he was so upset.  Derek was a free agent.  He could date whoever he wanted and it was not at all Stiles' business.  But Sara — she worked for his dad!  Surely his dad's deputies were off limits.</p><p>

They had to be!  Stiles talked to them!  Knew them!</p><p>

Derek Hale was not allowed to date the people Stiles knew!  It was like a conflict of interest or something.  Stiles would find the name to fit the crime!</p><p>

But most of all, it was weird!</p><p>

“The play was that I had to flirt,” Derek said pointedly, and Stiles looked at him to see him staring back with raised eyebrows like Stiles was being unreasonable.  “I did my part.  Why are you bitching?  <em>You're</em> the one who told me to flirt!  And it's not like I asked for her number.  She just gave it to me.  What was I supposed to say?  'Thanks, but no thanks, I'm really just here to distract you while the sheriff's kid sneaks into the evidence lockup'?”</p><p>

Aggravated for no discernible reason, Stiles threw out an arm and smacked Derek across his solid, stone-like shoulder.  Pain bloomed through his hand and he winced.</p><p>

“Shit,” he hissed, shaking out his hand and rubbing it.  Looking up at Derek who was smirking at him insufferably, as he was wont to do, Stiles' ire piqued and he snapped, “What the fuck are you even made of?”</p><p>

And without missing a beat, with his eyes firmly on Stiles', Derek said, “Boyfriend material.”</p><p>

Then he promptly froze, his eyes going a little wide before he cleared his throat.  He schooled his expression almost instantly and shrugged nonchalantly.  Derek then turned to the window, staring out of it with a newfound stiffness.  If not for the fact that Stiles was an observant little fuck, he would have thought Derek had said that on purpose just to be an asshole.</p><p>

But Stiles could see Derek's ears reddening, and there was a sudden fluttering in Stiles' belly.  His heart picked up speed in his chest.  And it was like the mood in the Jeep had flipped around.  From tense and angry, it had suddenly gone fraught with a completely different kind of tension.</p><p>

Stiles could feel his palms go clammy with sweat, and he bit his bottom lip, heart thudding in his chest as he gulped down the sudden nerves skittering along his skin.  Rubbing the cold sweat on his hands off on his jeans, he took a deep breath.</p><p>

“That's some tough boyfriend material,” Stiles blurted.  “Mind if I feel?”</p><p>

Derek whipped around, eyes searching him in disbelief.</p><p>

“Are you fucking with me?”  Derek growled, shoulders rising defensively.</p><p>

But Stiles was as far from kidding as was possible.  So far from kidding, it was pathetic.  His heart was in his fucking throat and he could feel his skin buzzing in anxiousness.</p><p>

“Are you?”  Stiles retorted, eyes narrowing.</p><p>

Derek narrowed his own in turn.  He looked at Stiles, searching him.  But after a moment, his shoulders seemed to loosen, and his expression lost some of its pinched disbelief, settling into his usual impenetrable glower.</p><p>

Without reducing his glare in the least, Derek lifted an arm and offered it to Stiles.  Expression unchanged, he said, “Go ahead.”  Like a taunt.</p><p>

And Stiles had never been graced with a taunt he did not follow through on.</p><p>

Just ask Scott McCall.</p><p>

Lifting a hand, Stiles raised both eyebrows, but Derek did not drop his arm.  He even lifted it a little higher.</p><p>

It was like a game of gay chicken.</p><p>

Stiles was a <em>pro</em> at gay chicken.</p><p>

Again, just ask Scott McCall.</p><p>

Gulping, Stiles reached out and rested his hand on Derek's arm, fingers wrapping around the thick bicep.  His heartbeat was out of control, and he was sure Derek could hear it with his freaky superior hearing.  He squeezed lightly, but his muscle did not so much as yield. Dropping his eyes from Derek's firm gaze, Stiles stared at the coveted muscle in surprise. His heart skipped a beat.  And when Derek did nothing to stop him, he squeezed a little harder.</p><p>

No reaction, and still no give.</p><p>

Stiles dragged his hand over the arm, feeling the cordon of muscle through the leather, digging his fingers into it to cop a heavy feel.  And it was then that Stiles realized Derek was purposely <em>flexing</em> to keep his muscle as hard as possible.</p><p>

Stiles felt a little lightheaded at the revelation.</p><p>

“That's some boyfriend material,” Stiles said, and his voice was far breathier than before.</p><p>

“Interested?”  Derek said.  His voice was rougher, a tinge of a growl at the edges of his words.  Stiles' gaze shot back up to meet his, and they held.  Derek's eyes were intense and focused solely on his own, that gorgeous celadon green captivating him fully.</p><p>

“You have no idea,” Stiles breathed.</p><p>

Derek moved so fast that Stiles did not have a chance to even blink before he was yanked forward by the neck and Derek's lips were on his own.</p><p>

Stiles eagerly jumped into gear.  His arms threw themselves up, long fingers sweeping into Derek's luscious hair — it was even softer than he imagined now that Derek no longer used that hideous gel-like product — and he drew Derek closer, pressing their chests together and parting his lips to let a wandering tongue into his mouth.</p><p>

It was like Stiles was lit up from the inside, his body vibrating out of control.  He wanted more.  He wanted to let Derek devour him and he whimpered when Derek's hands wandered wantonly down his back, yanking him closer, pressing into his skin as if Stiles would flee if he let go.</p><p>

But Stiles was not planning on going <em>anywhere</em> if he had any say in it.</p><p>

But apparently he did not.</p><p>

A loud, hard tap at his window startled them both, but they only pulled away far enough to look around and see the very pinched expression of one Sheriff Noah Stilinski.  He promptly pulled open Stiles' door to look in at them with a glower that said he was already regretting this conversation.</p><p>

“Sheriff,” Derek greeted flatly.</p><p>

“Derek,” Noah replied stiffly before looking between them.  He rolled his eyes.  Stiles gaped.</p><p>

“Congrats,” Noah said, sarcastic.  “Now do either of you wanna tell me what you're doing here besides discovering how many teeth you have between you?”</p><p>

Stiles felt himself flush all the way to his chest, and when he looked at Derek, he saw that Derek's ears and neck were no better off.</p><p>

“Discovering our bisexuality?”  Stiles found himself saying, and he clearly heard Derek groan.</p><p>

“Uh-huh,” Noah said, looking far too disbelieving than was called for.  “That's certainly why you parked in the blindspot of the camera pointed at the parking lot of the station.”  He scoffed.  “Now let's pretend I'm fully aware of who you are, Stiles.”</p><p>

Fuck, they were so busted.  Stiles could feel the stolen phone in his pocket burning a hole through it.  He could almost smell the melted cotton.</p><p>

“Parking ticket,” Derek said then, and Stiles did not miss a beat, nodding furiously.</p><p>

“Yep,” Stiles said.  “Totally.  We came to — the parking ticket.”</p><p>

“Uh-huh,” Noah said, because he was a suspicious fucker and he did not trust like that.</p><p>

“You can ask your deputy,” Derek said.  “Sara Frisch.  I talked to her about it.”</p><p>

Noah gave Derek a searching look.</p><p>

“If I find you lied to me,” Noah said.  “You can bet you won't be dating my son.”</p><p>

“Dad,” Stiles gasped.</p><p>

Noah gave him a quelling look.</p><p>

“I'm not lying,” Derek said.  He adopted a guilty look.  “I tried to argue it, but Deputy Frisch told me there wasn't anything she could do about it.  Stiles just drove me here.”</p><p>

“Hm,” Noah hummed.  He looked thoughtful.  “Well, we'll see.”  He tapped the hood of the car twice before looking to Stiles firmly.  “Home by midnight,” he said.</p><p>

“Sure.”  Stiles nodded.</p><p>

And with one last glance between them, Noah closed the door and walked away.</p><p>

“How long before he notices the phone is missing,” Derek asked quietly.</p><p>

“Couple hours,” Stiles replied, just as low.</p><p>

“Then we better hurry,” Derek said, moving back into his seat and pulling the seatbelt on.  Stiles did the same, pausing when Derek took hold of his hand.  “For the record,” Derek said when Stiles looked at him. His face was completely serious, eyes intense.  “Sara can't hold a candle to you.”</p><p>

Once more, Stiles was overcome with the urge to <em>kiss him.</em>  Because <em>of course,</em> Derek was the kind of romantic asshole perfectly capable of making Stiles weak at the knees.  But asshole that he was, Derek moved out of his range just as Stiles tried to go for it and turned to the front.</p><p>

“You should probably start the car if we wanna make it back before your dad notices the phone's gone,” Derek said, smirking.</p><p>

“Oh, my god, you're such an asshole!”  Stiles declared, but he was smiling delightedly as he started his car and ripped out of the parking lot.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tumblr: <a href="https://floreswrites.tumblr.com/">@floreswrites</a><br/>twitter: <a href="http://twitter.com/nanadanonini/">@nanadanonini</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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